Don't Mess With Ouija Boards
by FacelessGhoul
Summary: INDEFINITE HIATUS! It was just supposed to be a good night. They were going to play with the board, maybe get a little scared, and all have a good laugh about it later. No harm, no foul. What they hadn't anticipated was that their antics would summon something far more malevolent than any ordinary spirit. (Warning: Blood, gore, violence, and ridiculous amounts of profanity.)
1. The First Mistake

**Author's Note: Allow me to clarify that this is an Alternate Universe story. Ichigo and his peers are normal humans in college.**

 **If that's okay with you, on with the story!**

* * *

Ichigo rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh, "I still can't believe you guys talked me into this bullshit. An ouija board? Seriously?"

"Aww, lighten up, berry," Ikkaku replied with a heavy pat on Ichigo's back that sent the orangette stumbling forward a step or two. "This is gonna be fun. Just messing around with a board game with the lights off to get ourselves psyched up. We'll all have a nice scare from it, and laugh about it all by tomorrow at lunch. It'll be therapeutic and everything."

"I don't know man, my dad told me never to mess with those things," Ichigo said in a slow and unsure voice.

Ikkaku snorted, "What, you _scared_?"

"Me? Scared?" Ichigo scoffed, "Hell no. I just try to avoid disobeying my dad."

"Don't kid with me. When do you ever listen to that crazy old fart?"

"Joke all you want, Ikkaku, but if you'd seen the look in his eye, maybe you'd know why I try to listen on this one…"

"Ugh, you pansy. Get your ass in the living room. Everyone does this at some point before they grow up. It's like a right of passage or something. Just this once. Do it for the laughs."

"I don't know, Ikkaku, I've got a bad feeling about this…" Ichigo trailed off. Despite his words, he didn't resist as he was forcefully led by the shoulders into Ikkaku's living room.

Upon entering, the first thing that caught his eye was the board on the low coffee table in the center of the room.

All the furniture— couches, entertainment set, television, various knick knacks and such— had been pushed up against the walls to make space. The room was dark with all the lights turned off, and black curtains pulled out to cover the windows (not the usual color theme for Ikkaku's living room, but Ichigo figured it was for the visual effect). The only light sources were five candles lit in a star formation around the table.

Around the table sat Yumichika (predictably; he and Ikkaku were practically connect at the hip), Renji, Rukia, her brother Byakuya (oddly enough), and most notably odd…

"Aizen?!" he exclaimed. "How the hell did you rope our _history professor_ into messing with an ouija board with us at midnight?!"

"Hello to you too, Mr. Kurosaki," the man with slicked back brown hair and simple glasses deadpanned.

"Eh, details," Ikkaku said offhandedly, waving him off as he took a seat at the head of the table. Or maybe it was the tail. Ichigo never could tell with tables. "Sit your ass down. We're gonna contact some spirits."

Swallowing down the palpable sense of foreboding, Ichigo sat down between Renji and Rukia, opposite of Ikkaku. The shaved-headed man smirked victoriously.

"Alright, now that we're all here, let's begin… everyone put your hands on the planchette," Ikkaku ordered. He was the last to put his hands on the planchette, on top of everyone else's. "Okay, now how do you do this…?"

"You don't know how to do it?" Ichigo asked incredulously with a quirked brow.

"Shaddup," Ikkaku grumbled, "I'm just gonna wing it," he then cleared his throat before saying much louder, "Spirits from beyond! Is there anyone out there?"

For a solid few minutes that felt like a short eternity to Ichigo, nothing happened. Only silence. There was thick tension in the air, but Ichigo got the feeling he was the only one who noticed it. He was feeling an inexplicable deep rooted terror, and it was growing with each passing moment.

"Guys…" Ichigo said, only to be shushed by Ikkaku. He stayed quiet for all but two minutes, "I don't like this. I'm gonna—"

Rukia, who'd noticed Ichigo stop mid-sentence, furrowed her brow in concern, "What's wrong, Ichigo?"

Ichigo gave a violent jerk to his hand and met such strong resistance that it wouldn't budge even half a centimeter, "My hands… I can't take them off the planchette!"

"Quit fucking around, Ichigo, it's not funny," Renji said dryly.

"I'm not," he shouted frantically as he continued his fruitless efforts to yank his hands away. "I keep trying, but I can't move my hands!"

Rukia was next to attempt to move her hands, "Oh my god, neither can I!"

Renji scowled, "Rukia, not you too. I can't believe you're joining in on this."

Yumichika's voice was small and fearful, "She's not lying."

At that point, everyone else attempted to pull away from the planchette, but no one could. They were all beginning to panic, though Byakuya and Aizen didn't let it show on their faces. Rukia had tears in her eyes, and Yumichika didn't look far behind her in that aspect.

"This is all _your_ fault!" Ichigo snapped at the only person he could. Ikkaku.

"My fault?! How is this my fault?!" Ikkaku demanded.

"You're the one who made us do this!"

"You didn't have to listen—!"

"You _pressured_ me!"

"Guys, stop fighting! It's moving!' Yumichika shouted to be heard over the bickering between the two.

There was instant silence as seven pairs of eyes focused on the violently shaking planchette. Suddenly, it gave a forceful jerk, and then it was moving across the board and was pointing at the first letter. H.

It moved again until it spelled out ' _hello'_.

"I-it's speaking to us…" Rukia murmured. Her voice was slightly hopeful. Ichigo knew from the look on her face that she was hoping maybe this spirit was friendly.

"Who are you?" Ikkaku asked to seemingly thin air with false bravado.

The planchette was moving more quickly this time.

' _I am who I am._ '

"But what is your name?" Ikkaku tried.

' _I have no name._ '

"Ask it what it wants from us," Aizen ordered calmly. If one hadn't been paying extremely close attention, Aizen would have appeared entirely at ease. Suffice to say, he was not.

Ikkaku cleared his throat before speaking, "What do you want from us?"

There was a long pause. An uncomfortably long pause. So long in fact, that some of them started to muse that the… whatever it was… had left. The fact that none of them could move yet quickly silenced those thoughts.

The planchette shuddered to life once more. It trembled in place for a few tense seconds, then wildly jerked back and forth over the H and the J.

This went on for a while until it stopped and slowly spelled but one word…

' _Hungry'_...

Ichigo's heart leapt into his throat. Somehow, he didn't get the impression some pork ramen would satisfy this thing's appetite.

"W-what's going to happen to us?" Rukia dared to ask aloud. Her voice was pitiful and small, but easily heard in the chilling silence of the darkened room.

"I don't know," Ichigo answered truthfully.

Just after he'd said this, the planchette started moving one final time. Like last time, it only spelled out one single word.

' _Run_.'

With that, all the windows in the room shattered at once, a blustering wind bursting forth into the room and sending the curtains awry. All the candles were blown out in an instant, throwing all the room's occupants into darkness much more complete than before.

Then came the shrieking, cackling laughter.

Almost everyone, excluding Byakuya and Aizen, were now screaming. They quickly found they could now remove their hands from the planchette.

Rukia was first to get up and run for the exit. She was closely followed by Renji, and Byakuya, then everyone else realized they needed to get out of their fast. They made for the exit, hearts beating erratically as their fight or flight instincts were kicked into overdrive.

As they neared the front door, Ichigo took a head count. He jolted to a stop. "Wait, where's Yumichika?"

His question was punctuated at the end by a shrill scream from the living room. Then more insane laughter.

"Yumichika!" Ikkaku yelled as he doubled back to the living room.

Ichigo chased after him. They arrived just in time to see Yumichika being dragged into a dark vortex where the ouija board had been. Yumichika clawed at the floor in a vain attempt to slow down his impending doom.

"Ikkaku!" he screamed, face twisted in fear. "Help me! Ikkak— _ **uahhh**_!"

Just as Ikkaku was reaching for his friend, Yumichika was pulled with one final jerk into the vortex. The screams could be heard however, and should any of them survive the ordeal, the sounds would haunt them in their dreams for many nights to come.

The way the shouts and cries grew higher and more frantic as they morphed from terror to agony. The resounding crunches Ichigo and Ikkaku could both hear that should never be associated with a human body. How even now, they could hear Yumichika calling out to Ikkaku for help with his last breath.

Bile was rising in Ichigo's throat through it all, and it was a vehement struggle not to vomit all over the floor where he stood.

"Yumichika!" Ikkaku yelled desperately, and continued to yell until his throat was raw. He attempted to throw himself into the vortex, but Ichigo held him back. Ikkaku elbowed Ichigo in the side viciously, "Let me go!"

"No, Ikkaku, he's gone!" Ichigo pulled him back into the hallway, toward the front door. "There's nothing we can do!"

"Give him back to me," Ikkaku cried, struggling even more, "give back Yumichika, you _**bastard**_!"

"Guys!" Ichigo called over his shoulder. "A little help?! Open the door!"

"I-I can't!" came Rukia's panicked voice, followed by the rattling sound of the knob and door itself being furiously jimmied. More frantically, she called, "It's locked!"

He got the feeling that telling her to just unlock it wouldn't help anything.

"Move over, Rukia!" Renji snapped, shoving her to the side. He gave the knob a few sharp twists to no avail. "Dammit!"

"You idiots!" Ichigo growled, slapping a palm to his forehead. He stomped up to the forefront of the crowd. "Outta my way."

He shoved everyone back, and with one mighty kick to just beside the lock, he kicked the door down.

The others stood there in shock for a moment before they were all rushing forward in a frenzy to escape the house. Just as Ichigo was stepping over the threshold, he heard a shout of both pain and surprise from right behind him.

He turned around to see Ikkaku on his stomach on the floor, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping either edge of the doorframe. His feet lay on the floor a short distance behind him, having been cleanly sliced off. A shadowy, clawed wisp of a hand had a hold of what was left of one of his ankles. The shadows adjoining the hand snaked all the way back to the living room, where the vortex and ouija board were.

Ikkaku stared up at Ichigo with wide eyes. There was fear in them, but what surprised and scared Ichigo was that there was also some macabre form of acceptance. A serene smile slipped across Ikkaku's face for a split second, as if he wanted this.

Ichigo grasped wildly for Ikkaku's hands, "Ikkaku, don't—!"

But his friend had already let go. Shortly after Ikkaku disappeared from his sight, Ichigo could hear the screams, and the crunching, just like with Yumichika.

Ikkaku was gone.

Two of his friends were gone. That thing was still in there.

Like a coward, he ran. The screams and the shrieking, insane laughter that sent involuntary chills down his spine like nails on a chalkboard could still be heard all the way down the road.

Still, he ran.

Ran from that _thing_.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Let me know if you catch any typos, grammatical errors, or glaring plot holes! As always, I don't have a beta-reader. Until next time.**


	2. Demons Are Whimsical Liars

**Author's Note: Wow, am I tired. Hope this chapter reads okay and all. I tried my hand at a little bit of creepy.**

* * *

That night, Ichigo barely slept a wink. Come morning time, he was exhausted, red and puffy-eyed, and justifiably paranoid.

His father took notice of his state, but by that point Ichigo was too ashamed to admit he'd deliberately disobeyed him and that it had gotten two of his friends killed. He was scared his father would just tell him he told him so and that he was on his own since he saw it fit to use his own judgement instead of listening for once.

As such, he brushed off his father's concerns. A stupid decision, but one that was perfectly human.

* * *

 _ **Life went on...**_

* * *

Two days later, word of Yumichika and Ikkaku's odd disappearance got around. A day or so thereafter and it ended up on the news. Police had investigated Ikkaku's home only to find an ouija board on a coffee table, both of which were covered in bloodstains. Investigators surmised that there were two blood types, and that they matched up with the two 'missing' people.

They concluded that, as the probability of someone surviving such an amount of blood loss was so miniscule, the two were most likely deceased.

As such, police had opened up an ongoing investigation for the killer and issued a warning that a homicidal maniac was on the loose. Little did they know.

Ichigo knew better. He knew no one would believe him however, so he just kept his head down and his mouth shut.

He just prayed that **thing** wasn't still _hungry…_

* * *

A few days later, Aizen pulled Ichigo aside after class.

"Is there something bothering you, Mr. Kurosaki? Your grades have been going down recently," he paused in thought. "Is this about what happened to Madarame and Ayasegawa?"

"Don't!" Ichigo abruptly shouted.

Aizen took a step back in shock from the outburst. Ichigo's eyes widened. He let out a breathy sigh, running a hand through sweaty locks.

"Sorry… please, I don't want to talk about… that," Ichigo said in a significantly quieter voice.

Aizen's expression softened, "It's quite alright. You've had a lot on your mind."

Ichigo merely gave a numb little nod. He just wanted to go to sleep and wake up to realize this was all a very bad dream. Unfortunately, every day that he woke up only further solidified the fact that two of his friends were very much dead, and had been eaten alive by a… a **demon** …

Ichigo groaned, rubbing at his temples, "What have we _done_ …?"

Aizen had no answer for that question. Eventually, he sighed and told Ichigo, "What's important is that it's over now. Go home and get some rest. Maybe take a couple sick days while you get your head back on straight," he placed a gentle hand on Ichigo's shoulder as he spoke.

Ichigo shuddered, "How can you be so calm about this?"

Aizen hesitated, then replied, "I just am. It will all get better in time. You'll see."

Ichigo shook his head with a sorrowful, wistful expression, "If only I could believe you, Sir."

* * *

That night, Ichigo did as Aizen told him. For the first night in many, he had a good night's sleep...

* * *

He was awakened by the heavy weight on his chest. Ichigo slowly cracked his eyes open.

Two piercing black eyes with yellow irises stared back at him.

The man above him hardly looked human, but the heaviness that made it difficult for Ichigo to take in full breaths of air told him that he was quite real. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent. His hair likewise. As he licked his smirking lips, Ichigo caught sight of a deep blue tongue.

It wasn't hard to connect two and two. This was the same one who had eaten Ikkaku and Yumichika. Now he had come for Ichigo.

Ichigo managed to gasp as deeply as he could, making too scream. A white, black-nailed hand was clasped over his mouth in an instant.

"Ah-ah-ah…" the man said in a watery, echoing voice, as if multiple voices were speaking to him from underwater. His smirk grew impossibly wide as he let loose a demented giggle. "Wouldn't want ol' daddy dearest findin' us, now would we?"

All Ichigo's shouts were easily muffled by his hand, so he opened his mouth wide and chomped down on the bastard's palm. It did not have the desired effect.

"Ohh, feisty, ain'tcha," the man chuckled, tickling under Ichigo's chin. Ichigo felt like he was going to be sick. "My favorite."

Ichigo struggled furiously, managing to get his face away from the man's hand. Or rather, the man allowed him to.

"You bastard!" he growled. "Don't think you can do what you did and just waltz in here—"

"Oh? And who's gonna stop me? You?" the man cackled madly as he threw his head back. He then leaned in so close their noses touched, "Let me let ya in on a lil secret, lil morsel. I'm here to stay, and there's _nothin'_ ya can do about it."

Ichigo scowled at him. He wanted to keep throwing insults at him, to yell and kick and scream, but that didn't seem to work on this guy.

"I could just eat ya up right now," the demon went on, "oh, but where's the fun in that? I think I'll let ya watch as I tear yer world in two. Have sweet dreams, _Ichigo_."

Dark shadows like flame flared up around the man, and when they faded, he was gone.

Ichigo sat in appalled silence, trying to process this new turn of events.

Suddenly, it dawned on him… _How did that thing know his name?_

* * *

Ichigo tried his damnedest to appear at ease at all times. He swallowed down his worries and terror, and made attempts at a neutral face.

Unfortunately for Ichigo— or perhaps it was fortunate— his father wasn't stupid. He just didn't know what to do just yet with the knowledge he had on hand.

His father watched with worried, wary eyes as Ichigo left for school at the local college. Ichigo had claimed he was taking a few days off at Aizen's request, but after just one night, he'd abruptly informed his father that he wouldn't be staying home after all.

Isshin got the impression the change of heart wasn't just on a simple whim.

Something was bothering Ichigo… Something serious. And Kurosaki Isshin would find out what.

* * *

Ichigo was swiftly nearing his wit's end. Why? Well…

" _Ya really think that comin' back to school will be any use in helpin' yer lil friends? How cute."_

That.

Somehow, some way, that demon was in his head. He'd found that out soon after he had asked his friends if they heard anything. They'd looked at him with concern, as if questioning his sanity. But of course, that thought was one created solely by his own paranoia. They were most likely more worried that he wasn't feeling well, since he'd opted not to take his break that he'd told them he was going to have.

He did his best to focus, but he wasn't really succeeding at it.

" _Say, this ain't all that much fun, partner."_

"I don't care," Ichigo grumbled under his breath. A few nearby students who heard him glared at him. The teacher gave him an odd look.

" _Ya know what's more fun than this?"_

"I don't _care_ ," he replied more vehemently.

Unfortunately for him, the teacher was nearby this time. "Don't care about what, Mr. Kurosaki? Is my lecture that boring to you?"

"No…!" Ichigo started, but the voice of that demon was back.

" _Killin' your best friend."_

His eyes widened briefly, then everything went dark.

* * *

The students and teacher watched as Ichigo's face went slack and he abruptly stood from his desk.

"M… Mr. Kurosaki! Sit back in your seat this instant!" the teacher ordered.

He couldn't technically make Ichigo stay, as this was college and not high school, but then not all teachers were really doing their jobs to the letter. It didn't help that this particular teacher had some sort of grudge against the orange-haired adolescent for no particular reason.

Not that it mattered much now.

Ichigo, who'd already stepped away from his desk, turned only his head nearly to an inhuman angle to look back at the teacher with cold eyes. Was it just his imagination, or were they glowing yellow? Ichigo uttered a single word in a voice too raspy and high to be his own, "... No."

"E-excuse me?"

"I'm goin' to the can, teach. See ya."

He slowly made his way out the door. Everyone watched with bated breath and wide eyes until he'd disappeared from sight. Even then, no one spoke until they could no longer hear his distant footsteps tapping down the hall.

A random, nameless student at the back of the room shuddered, "What's gotten into him?"

No one had an answer for that question.

Kurosaki Ichigo did not return to class.

* * *

Ichigo moaned at the excruciating ache inside his skull as he came to.

The first thing he realized after regaining consciousness was that it was dark. Dark as night.

Rather, it _was_ nighttime, and he wasn't in the classroom. That was for sure.

There was a soft, high sound coming from somewhere. Sobbing? Crying?

He strained his ears.

No. It was giggling. It started off slow and barely audible, but it was gradually reaching a crescendo until it was hysterical.

Ichigo could barely see his own hands in front of him. He had no way of knowing where the laughter was coming from.

On his hands and knees, he crawled. He fumbled around blindly, trying to find his way. The ground beneath him was hard— stone, or pavement— and wet, like it had rained recently, but he couldn't smell the petrichor that accompanied rain. The air around him was dry, lacking the familiar dampness rain sometimes left in its wake.

Somehow, he managed to crawl toward the sound without hitting obstacles along the way. He was nearly there when he bumped into something.

It was heavy, not budging much when he bumped into it.

Cautiously, he reached out a hand. The object was stiff, yet also a little soft. His brow furrowed as he rubbed his hand over the strange surface. He tried to make sense of what he was feeling.

Something wrinkled under his fingers… fabric? It felt like… a shirt?

He was so distracted by the object before him that he didn't hear someone come up behind him. Ichigo shivered when he felt a breath of warm air against his ear.

"I've got a _wonderful_ surprise for you," was cooed into his ear, quiet as a whisper.

There was the distinct clicking sound from somewhere behind him, the sound one's fingers would make when snapped together. A short distance above him, a glowing orb of scarlet light appeared. It illuminated what Ichigo now recognized as a narrow alleyway in an eerie red glow.

"Look down."

Against his better judgement, Ichigo obeyed. He could now see what the thing before him was.

A torso. A human, woman torso.

No arms. No legs. No head. Just the chest and stomach of some woman laid out before him.

Entrails were dragged out from inside the ribcage, trailing down the alleyway, so close that one of his hands on the ground was nearly touching them. The wetness he'd felt on the ground wasn't from water.

It was blood. The stuff was coating his hands, and knees from where he'd been crawling. That wasn't all. Drying blood was caked on his forearms, up to the elbow. It was splattered all over his shirt.

It was a wonder he hadn't noticed it before. He should have felt uncomfortable with it all over him, but he hadn't felt a thing.

"Ain't it beautiful, Ichi?" the demon placed black-nailed hands on either of Ichigo's shoulders, whispering darkly in his ear, "I admit she was pretty in life, but she looks so much better this way. All thanks to ya."

His heart and his stomach were having a race to see which could reach the back of his throat first. His stomach soon won out as bile rose in his throat. He swallowed dryly a couple times, but ultimately ended up turning around and vomiting off to the side.

The demon narrowly dodged it, his malicious grin widening twice as wide at the sight.

"I would _never_ do something like this," Ichigo said between gasps for breath. His throat burned from the stomach acid that had torn through it. The bitter, sour taste was left on his tongue.

"Mm, but that's where yer wrong," the demon replied, ruffling Ichigo's hair as a friend or older relative might fondly do. The feeling was not the same. "Ya did this, with yer own two hands."

Ichigo shook his head, both to deny the statement and to get away from his touch, "No… no! I wouldn't. Y-you _made_ me do it!"

"I took control of yer body, sure," the demon admitted, then leaned in, holding up a hand to the side of his mouth as he whispered conspiratorially, "but lemme let ya in on a lil secret, boy. I can't possess just anyone I wanna willy-nilly. In order for me to be able to do it to a human, that human has to have an inherent potential for evil."

"W… what are you saying?" Ichigo asked weakly. A cold chill ran down his spine. He knew exactly what the demon meant, but he didn't want to believe what he was hearing.

The demon frowned, rolled his eyes, "Are ya daft, boy? In laymen's terms, I didn't make ya do anythin' ya didn't wanna do in the first place, 'cause ya already wanted to."

Ichigo tried to speak, but instead his jaw just hung open. In his fruitless attempts at speech, it just opened and closed like a fish's mouth.

Eventually, he regained control of his voice box.

"You— you're lying! You have to be, that can't be the truth!"

The demon tutted in disapproval, "Ichi, Ichi, Ichi… why would I need to lie when the truth is so much better than any lies I could come up with? Face it, yer not as good a guy as ya think ya are."

"You're a monster," Ichigo snapped, keeping his eyes on the now pacing pale demon. Ichigo scooted backward until his back was to the wall, to prevent the demon from being able to go behind him.

The demon casually walked over, squatting down in front of Ichigo. He put his elbow on his knee and rested his chin on his palm, "And proud of it. But if I'm a monster, then what does that make ya? Sense yer the one who let me in."

"I didn't—"

"Ya did," he interrupted, "now then, there's one last surprise… How's about ya walk on down that way an' take a look," he pointed toward the dead end of the alleyway.

"I don't want to go back there," Ichigo argued. He didn't want to lose the safe spot he was in. He didn't want to have his back to this guy.

The demon chuckled softly, cocking his head to the side, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I sound like I was makin' a request? Go take a look 'fore I make ya do it myself, ya pussy."

He'd nearly forgotten. This guy could take over his body at any given moment. He'd demonstrated as much already. Which meant that Ichigo was screwed, no matter how he looked at it.

He gulped, stood up and started walking. The globe of scarlet light followed him, but the demon thankfully remained by the corpse.

The long walk to the end of the alleyway felt like a walk to the gallows. He knew that logically, he probably wouldn't die any time soon (that wouldn't be much fun for the demon), but that didn't lessen the feeling of foreboding deep in his gut. It felt as if their was a cold nip in the air as he drew nearer even though the temperature hadn't changed at all.

His mind was playing tricks on him.

Then he was at the dead end.

The light that followed him made it easy to see what was before him.

He recognized the face, but not much. Kurotsuchi Nemu, a woman who'd been studying biology. She'd been about to graduate too.

"She… wasn't at the… the…"

"The summonin'?" the demon had popped up behind him. He grinned, "Ah yes, she _wasn't_ , was she? I suppose ya could say that now that I've got ya to help me out, I can go after more than just the ones who were there to summon me. Isn't that just lovely, my lil helper?"

Ichigo clenched his fist, "You sick bastard! Is this all just a game to you?!"

The demon gazed back at him coolly, unaffected by his yelling, "I don't think ya get it. That's exactly what it is to me. I haven't had this much fun in centuries, and now that I'm out, I think I'm gonna enjoy myself. That's enough for one day though. Time to take ya home."

"What—?"

Suddenly, all he could see was a white flash, then nothing.

* * *

He awoke in his bed. The light in the room told him it was morning time.

There was no blood on him at all, but his shirt was oddly missing. Ichigo never slept with his shirt off. He always had at least his standard tank top on.

He had conflicting feelings about what had happened. Something had to be wrong, but he couldn't find any evidence to support his suspicions other than the fact he woke up with no shirt on.

Ichigo groaned, throwing a forearm over his eyes. He was giving himself a headache.

It was a Friday, if he was not mistaken. He wanted to enjoy himself, finish off the week, then party with his friends over the weekend.

Except there was one big problem. In the shape of a white man with white hair and black and yellow eyes, that never, ever left him alone. At least he wasn't _talking_ to him for now.

Ichigo headed down the stairs for breakfast. As usual, Yuzu was busy at the stove, and his father was at the table reading the daily paper while Karin sat on the couch and flipped through the channels on the television.

He grabbed a couple pieces of toast and munched on them as he slid behind his dad, trying to get a better look at the headlines.

Isshin noticed him peeking, "They say a girl got murdered in some alleyway last night. Apparently she goes to your school."

Ichigo then caught sight of the headlines.

— _Kurotsuchi Nemu found dead in alleyway, flip to page 6 to read more._ —

He dropped his toast on the floor.

"Something wrong, son?" his father asked, turning to look at him. He set his newspaper down on the table to give Ichigo his full attention.

"N-not at all," Ichigo stuttered, "that's just really terrible. I need to, uh, get dressed for school."

Isshin watched with concern as his son rushed out of the room. Something was definitely wrong.

Ichigo took the stairs two at a time. He went to his closet and threw open the door only to wish he hadn't.

There, on the floor, was the bloody shirt he'd had on last night. It hadn't been a dream. It hadn't been a hallucination. It was real.

The incriminating evidence was sitting right in his closet.

Ichigo gulped down the bile in his throat and grabbed a set of clothes, slamming the closet door shut. He so did not have time to deal with this.

As he got in the shower and scrubbed himself down, he couldn't help but to allow his thoughts to go back to the bloodied shirt in his closet. What should he do? Did he get rid of the shirt to hide the evidence? Turn himself in? What other options were there?

He knew it was only a matter of time until someone else died, whether by the demon's hands, or his own unwilling. He dreaded that inevitable moment.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please let me know if you catch any grammatical errors, mistakes, glaring plot holes... And please review, whether you loved it or hated it.**

 **Until next time!**


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